A Past Love
by OllieOfFreeOxen
Summary: Seventeen year old James Norrington is about to get married, but his heart truly lies somewhere else: the sea. Oneshot. Kind of a prelude to my other story The One Who Was Sacked.


A/N: Alright, so that did take slightly longer than a week. I'm sorry, but it's much longer than what I usually write. Oh, and the reason it's not part of my "The One Who Was Sacked" story, it's because it's too long to be a chapter and is also written in third person and therefore a completely different style that would totally ruin that vibe. But anyway, enjoy!

Disclaimer: I actually own all the characters here except Mr. James Norrington. And as always, Disney owns the Pirates of the Caribbean story.

* * *

"James, say you love me." 

James smiled slightly, gazing at her white porcelain skin, fit onto the most perfect bone structure. She had light brown- almost blonde hair that always hung down any which way the wind blew it. Her eyes were a fantasy forest mix of green and gold. His hands took the girl's and Anne began to smile giddily.

"I have loved you even before I met you," he kissed her right hand.

Anne stood, trying not to burst out in giggles.

"Of course, I love you now like the flower looks up to the sun every sunrise," he then kissed her left hand. Her face was no longer white, but turning bright pink.

"And I will love you forever more." James spun her around and kissed her on the lips.

She pushed him away, falling on the soft field of grass. Her eyes became teary with so much bellowing in laughter. The boy dropped next to her, making sure she could still breathe.

"Mr. Norrington, where'd you find that? Shakespeare?" she questioned. Anne got up on her elbows, now taking in the air in a deep breath.

James scowled playfully. "Must you always doubt me, Miss Blake? In fact, I did just come up with that myself," he said.

Her breathing slowed and she studied her love's face with a blank one of her own. "It was lovely." She pressed her lips against his with such force to knock him over.

---

Charles cast the young man a threatening look. "You're late again," he said simply.

"I am not late," he said defensively. This young man, even though only a month younger than Charles, still had a more fashionable shirt and shinier shoes. If the other would take as much care into his looks, maybe if he spent less time in the sun to turn his curly locks a darker brunette, or grew a few inches, then perhaps he would've turned out more handsome. "I took the long way here," James continued, "and the old man's not even here yet."

"Good morning, boys!" A startling voice came up from behind them. Its source was a bulky, yet elderly man with a bush of untidy brown and white hair that filled thickly on the top of his head and continued down his jaw line into a matching beard. His wardrobe was just a stained white shirt and jet black overalls, both with bits of unknown slime in some random places.

"Good morning, Mr. Labar, sir," the boys said in unison.

The old man took little notice of this, being more interested in wiping his hands with the corner of his shirt. "There was quite a catch today," he coughed. "You'd better start getting to work if you want to sell out by mid-morning."

The two boys took off past him with a quick, "Yes, sir." They did as they always did, bringing two wheelbarrows full of fish down to the old man's stand at the market. Then, one would lay out the fish on the table in an orderly presentation while the other would walk back down to the docks to get another wheelbarrow-full. Every other turn, they would switch, as this would give them equal labouring time, while still having an equal chance to catch a beauty's eye while working at the stand. Mr. Labar usually left before their second turns. This was a good system, until of course, James had gotten himself engaged.

"What were you doing coming the long way around?" asked Charles, setting down the last group of fish.

"I was just thinking," James admitted quietly.

"Thinking?" Charles leaned against the table. "Now that's a dangerous word for you. Please, don't tell me it was about Anne again."

James stood silent, only muttering a "One penny, please." to a very tall woman, who paid him that for a few sole fish. "She wants..." he spoke suddenly, "She says she wants to live on a little farm in Flanders. Raise sheep and an army of children. I don't know.."

His partner gaped his mouth open wide. "And you had to even _think_ about that? How dare you even have second thoughts! I assure you, you're going mad. You've got the most beautiful girl in town on your hands and I've never seen any two people as deeply in love as you two!" Charles proclaimed.

"Charles, please.."

"I'm not going to stop until you get your head on straight. Look, she's a poor locksmith's daughter from Cornwall. You're a poor Navy unknown's son from Cornwall. In my mind, it's destiny. You're a perfect match," said the shorter one, waving a goodbye to one of their customers.

James scoffed, resting his arm on the table. "I was born in Cornwall. I am not _from_ Cornwall. There is a difference."

"Two pence, please and thank you," Charles handed a fish that the young customer could not reach and received two coins back. "Then for the Lord's sake, will you tell me a single thing that's wrong with her?" he asked.

Sighing, James scratched at the street with his foot. "She's very stubborn, you know."

"And is the sea not stubborn? The sea can throw you into its grasp with a single hit, making you wish for the Devil to bring you sweet death. Yes, women can be strong, but not as much as that." Charles' eyes rolled, but he continued after a moment of consideration, "Well, at least not most days."

"First of all, I'd never be thick enough ride into a hurricane," James snickered. "And second, do you understand what's in America? People like us have caught fish taller than I am! Maybe that's why my father hasn't come back yet, because England is probably so dreadful compared to how he's living." His eyes glazed over at the sight of the ocean behind Charles, who just stood with a disappointed look on his face.

Shrugging, Charles spoke, "I don't know, Mate, I really don't know. Look, because I'm am truthfully your friend, I am going to say this. You're already seventeen, and you cannot wait much longer to get married. My suggestion is that you should become Anne's husband, and take care of her. Forget these dreams of sailing the seven seas and whatnot. Men like us weren't meant to command ships and wage wars." He motioned over to the piles of dead fish that stood in front of them.

"I know.." James murmured. He was suddenly stirred when a penny hit with a _tink _in front of him. Its source was a butler with a powdered white wig and a maroon coat, who impatiently took a penny's worth of fish from the stand and rushed away with his pinched nose held up high. "Men like us..."

---

The sunset hit the water with an orange light, giving a pattern of black stripes that bounced around every so often, trying to kiss the mist that rose up above it. The sea did lat up high enough at the sides, making a slap of sound that made its own rhythm in the background.

James sat at the end of the dock. His legs swung over the edge, as if daring to drop down into the water. _What if Charles is right? _he thought wistfully. _Perhaps I'm not destined for a life on the sea. _A sigh escaped his lips, and his lids dropped over his hazel eyes for a moment of peace.

"Thinking again, big brother? I swear, if you'd think anymore, your head'll fall off."

The eyes opened, but James did not turn around. "Go away, Addie," he said impatiently.

The young girl promptly sat down next to him. Addie was very unlike the other girls, and did not mind getting her dress dirty. Her womanly looks had not grown in yet, although she was steadily growing taller and required new clothes. She shifted, rubbing her newest dress into the filth of the dock. James took no notice.

"Are you nervous?" asked Addie, leaning in towards her sibling.

"That's a stupid question! Does Mother know you ask people questions like this?" James said with a frown, and leaned away from her.

Addie paused, but was not offended. "That's not an answer, Jamie. Are you nervous? About getting married?"

There was another pause while a breeze blew in for a moment, changing the patterned sound of the water. "Yes," he muttered quietly.

"About what part of it? The ceremony? O-or leaving home?" She laid her arms on James' shoulder and stroked the hair behind his ear.

He ignored her and strained his neck trying to get away from her touch.

"Jamie..." Addie pleaded.

James smacked her hand away and got up suddenly. "All of it! I'm nervous the ceremony, leaving home, the whole thing!" he shouted, "I'm nervous about the change, the-the new life that I'm going to take on! I'm nervous because I wonder if this is the right choice in my life, whereas I could be doing so much more. Does that answer your question?"

Addie looked to the ground and got up meekly. James tried to grab her arm and apologize, but she just shuddered and shook him away. The wind breathed at her hair and dress, making it sway gently as she walked towards their house.

"Addie, I-" her brother started.

She turned around, taking in one breath of air. "Jamie, if you really want to, you should. But, if you really think it won't work, then you shouldn't. It's just as easy as that. Only you know what is best for yourself. Common sense." Addie gave a little smile, and swallowed.

James blinked. "What?"

"Dinner's ready. Mother wants you to come in." Addie turned around again and walked.

He waited a moment, sighing. His sister was a peculiar girl. There was no doubt about that.

---

James eyed his ring carefully, turning it around in his fingers as he sat on the family's loveseat. Charles, his best man, had entrusted the silver and gold bands in the groom's possession, for he trusted his friend rather than his own family. His little sister already tried to steal it from him a week after they were purchased.

It was three days until the wedding. Three days until he and Anne were bound into marriage. James turned the ring over again and again, feeling the smooth roundness of it in a bright gold color. It fascinated him how a circle had no beginning nor end. His mother told him the ring was a representation of love and marriage itself. There was no end to either of them, it just kept on going for all of eternity.

The young man thought quietly to himself, as he often did. He even began to study the bride's ring, which was silver and in a smaller size. The town center's bell tolled twice, reminding him that he was yet another hour closer to changing his life completely. Fifteen minutes later, he swung a canvas bag over his shoulder and clenched the rings in his hand. Sitting inside in the middle of the day never did any help.

James walked down the poorly conditioned cobble street roads, passing the buildings that he had grown up with. A few people that he knew waved, but he simply nodding back. Finally, he came to the docks and stood before a tall man.

"James Norrington, sir," he said without a pause.

"You're late," the tall man glared behind his glasses and made a short mark in his book. "We'll be departing in less than an hour."

The younger one nodded and climbed aboard, following the direction of other figures of authority on the ship. Other midshipmen like himself rushed about the ship, cowering from the barks of the officers. James dodged the incoming crewmembers while still trying to make his way across the deck.

"Pardon me," one young boy murmured, bumping James at the side.

With the great sense of surprise, James' clenched hand loosened and two pieces of precious metal dropped into the water below. He immediately leaned dangerously over the railing, watching in horror as the rings sunk and faded from sight down into the depths of the unknown.

Merely ten seconds passed before James swallowed and stood upright. He realized that in reality, the rings were just a cruel metaphor of himself. They had once held a wonderful hope, but in the end were just lost to the sea. It does not matter what you are or what you represent. Absolutely nothing can compare to the power of the sea.

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A/N: Please review! Criticism is very much welcome! 


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